The platform was filled with dozens of Nazis who attended the speech. Soldiers, civilians, men and women were all present. Those who couldn't attend because of work would listen to his voice on the radio. A dozen heavily armored guards stood between the Fuhrer's podium. The weapons they carried were the best the Fourth Reich could offer to the willing young men who would fight for their ideology.

When the Fuhrer walked through the doorway, he was accompanied by several guards while the citizens of Reich chanted their infamous cry throughout all of the Metro. "Slava, slava, slava!" Others chose to clap their hands at his arrival.

The clean and well-dressed man raised his hand, quieting the crowd before him. He looked down at the podium before returning his full attention towards his people.

People of Reich, I beseech you! Polis has kept a secret away from you! Their dogs currently hold a Gate that leads into another world - where our pure race deserves to be, but the Order intends to keep this to themselves. Will you let this happen?

"No!"

"Damn the council!"

"Death to the freaks!"

Thankfully, our legions have already cut the jackals of the Order away from the Gate. However, one last push needs to be done by you. This dream of a pure Russian nation will return and being our rise from the Metro. In the next thousand years, the Reich will rise from the ashes of and bring a new world order for mankind. No one shall stop us and none will defy us for this world will be ours and ours alone! Hail Reich!

Soon the Nazis cheered for their leader as they raised their fists from their hearts and repeated their chants. "Slava, slava, slava!"

Among the crowd, a single man finally knew what the Nazis were planning to do. Comrade General Moskvin will need to know about the Fourth Reichs plans, but this was helpful to know that the Polis Council wasn't sitting on their asses. Time was of the essence and the Red Line agent knew how to solve this issue. He drew his revolver and raised it in the air, only to pull the trigger and frighten those around him.

One of the guards shouted to the top of his lungs. "Shit, it's a spy!"

Ever since he spread the information to the Nazis, they rewarded him with several cartridges. This would last a normal man for several days if he was in the mood to spend their earnings, but he was one of many merchants in the Hanseatic League. All he needed to do was invest these cartridges into some potential business that looked like they were going to thrive.

The large man sat quietly in his office as he looked at his clipboard to find a list of expenses he would have to pay. His eyes went through the list and noticed the various payments he needed to do. The wages of the men who would carry his inventory from some backwater shop into his warehouse and along with the payment of the caravan guards who would protect them from bandits and mutants. He separated the cartridges that would pay those men from the rest of that remained unused. Perhaps he could have the opportunity to go to the whorehouse and relax with a prostitute.

Information was a good business and the Nazis paid well if one had the proper knowledge that torture couldn't do. Then he placed his clipboard back on his desk before reaching to a nearby plate of cooked rat. He looked down and started eating his meal, savoring the well-done meat from the Chechen cooks who survived the bombs.

When he leaned back, the old man placed his hands over his belly as he looked up from his desk. Yet, he almost choked on his food when a man was standing on the other side of the room. "I see that you are reaping the rewards of your enterprise."

Unlike himself, this old man was tall and thin as he crossed his arms. "Khan, I didn't expect you to be here. You should know better than to sneak up on me like that. Next time, knock on my door." He had previous transactions with this old man, they were often strange, but he paid well enough to consider his requests. However, he was terrified given that he had a reputation in certain stations.

Khan was brushing his beard with his fingers as he walked from one side of the room to another. "Tell me Sidorovich, why did you do that?"

The old fat man laughed reluctantly in his presence. "What do you mean?"

"Don't be stupid. Why did you tell the Nazis about the Gate?"

How did he know about the Gate? "Look, they paid well. It's not everyday that you come across that many cartridges."

The escentric man stormed towards his deck and slammed his knife's pointy blade into the wood. "Polis Rangers are going to die because of you."

"So? Who the hell cares about those uppity fucks? All they've been doing is making shit harder on the rest of us."

"Sidorovich, those men are trying to help the Metro and you may have condemned us all. All for what? Bullets?"

"Why do you care? We spent twenty years in this hell-hole and they haven't done jack shit."

"And? They have to deal with Nazis, communists, and greedy merchants like yourself." Khan countered. "Do you realize how far the Nazis will go to get that Gate? You just started a war and perhaps… the last war."

"So what do you intend to do with me then? It's not like you could prevent it." Sidorovich replied.

Khan reached for a weapon slung behind his back. "No, but you need to pay for your deed."

The old fat man, reached underneath his desk to grab his revolver hanging for him. As he scooted back, two old men brought their wrath on each other.

Lieutenant Itami found himself in the Formal Manor, lying on one of the beds the maids had offered. He had been up since the Battle of Italica and resting would help ease the tension he built up since it had ended. Then he glanced over to the stranger who rescued him from those female knights and smiled. "Thanks for getting me out of that situation."

The Russian shrugged his shoulders. "No problem. I know what it's like to be put in that situation."

"I saw you before? You were with that one guy talking to the Imperial Princess."

"Yeah, that was Uhlman. We're technically equals, but he's my senior when it comes to experience."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't introduce myself properly. I'm Lieutenant Itami of the JSDF, but you can call me Itami. I won't get offended if you don't call me by my rank. What's your name?"

"My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj; however, I prefer my first name to be called. Easier for me to answer."

The lieutenant chuckled, but began to ask a question. "So Artyom, how do you know Japanese so well. Some of your guys I talked with before the battle said that you didn't know Japanese. Yet, I'm talking to a guy who does know."

Then he noticed the young man's reluctance to talk. "It's… it's a long story. Maybe a different time, but it's just so complicated that it might make your head spin."

"I bet it's quite a story."

"Indeed."

The door to their room was swung open an older man in black armor walked in. "Artyom, there you are! I was looking all over for you."

"Uhlman, what do you need me for?" The young man wondered.

"Since Maxim went with the Japanese for surgery, you're my go-to translator." Then his gaze noticed the lieutenant lying in bed. "Lieutenant Itami, what a pleasant surprise to see you again. What happened to you."

Itami smiled. "The princess's reinforcements found my recon patrol. To honor a ceasefire treaty, I ordered my team to leave me behind before they marched me back to Italica. Never had I felt like crap when a bunch of girls were forcing me to walk."

He laughed. "Talk about torture. I was hoping that the next time we meet, the circumstances would be between both of our superiors."

"I do have a question and I might not like the answer, but what brings you to this place. I'm not referring to this world, just why Italica. It seems rather odd that you're here without any backup."

Then his facial expression changed into a serious one. "Artyom and I are post-apocalypse survivors who came from a Gate as well. At the moment, the Moscow Metro system is filled with survivors and we're here to supply them with a steady stream of food. However, both of us didn't expect to be caught up in this mess. Why are you here?"

"I'm here, because I was called into service. I remember the first day when the Gate opened in Japan, an Imperial Army from this world attacked us. People were scared and terrified that they were being slaughtered in the open. Ever since that event in Ginza, I hoped that we could stop them from doing any more harm."

Uhlman shook his head in approval. "Very understandable. I would do the same if I were in your shoes, but why haven't you defeated them yet? These people use swords and bows while you have an assault rifle and tanks."

Itami thought about it, they had the capabilities of attacking the Saderan capital city, but his experience with several refugees from that one village came into mind. "Hearts and minds." He answered. "We wanted to show the people of this world that we don't intend to bring any harm compared to the Imperials who attacked us."

Then Artyom began to comment. "Is it because you don't have a military?"

The older Russian glanced over to the young man. "It's nothing like that, Artyom. They do have a military, but it is a very defensive one."

"Oh, I see. I didn't understand when Alexsandr was talking about the Japanese."

A question from Itami came into mind. Uhlman mentioned that they were post-apocalypse survivors. "Uhlman, you said that both of you survived the apocalypse. What kind of apocalypse?"

"World War Three." He answered. "Believe it or not, people on my side of the Gate were crazy enough to push the button and wage a nuclear war for the first and last time. Hard to believe that was yesterday, though."

"I'm apologize if I-"

The older Russian smiled. "It's okay. I've kept my peace ever since the bombs fell."

Itami looked at the doorway to see several more people enter the room, but he immediately recognized them. "Kuribayashi? Guys? You came back."

The Russians turned their heads to find a short girl and several JSDF soldiers behind her. "You're our commanding officer. We wouldn't return until we got you back."

"Well, it's good to see you? These guys have been keeping us company."

"Hello." Uhlman said.

Another person arrived, walking past the crowd of JSDF soldiers. Yet, he was one of those Russians wearing black armor.

"Shuhrat? What are you doing here?"

"Uhlman, base camp is under attack. Kuzmich is recalling us from our assignment. We need to defend it ASAP."

"We're under attack by who?"

"Nazis."

Uhlman shook his head. "Damn it, I knew things were just going to get worse." Then he turned his attention to Artyom. "I'm going to need you. Let's see if the princess could spare a few horses. Shuhrat, tell Aleksandr to stay with the wagons. We'll come back for them later."

"Understood, then he walked out of the room."

"Looks like, I have to cut things short."

Then Itami offered a hand, figuratively. "Do you guys need help getting there? My recon team has some vehicles that could get you there easily."

"You don't have to get caught up with us." He replied.

"I don't, but you guys helped me and now I'll help you. A fair trade?"

"Okay. I hope you guys have room for four Polis Rangers."

Their small refugee camp was in chaos. People were in chaos as the fresh new translators were trying to organize the peasants to evacuate the premises. As for where they would be placed, the issues had to be solved one at a time, but it must be quickly. The Polis Guardsmen were doing their best to encourage the locals to abandoned their belongings and leave this place. The Polis Rangers who were deployed at the base camp had to redirect their evidence and point their machine guns towards their only way back into the Metro.

Kuzmich had to sacrifice several hundred meters to the Nazis and allow them to come out through the bottleneck - where the support of their panzers wouldn't extend beyond the rails of the tunnels. It also let him have an opportunity to bring out a weapon that he hadn't seen in a very long time, mortars. Most of their stock in Polis was scrapped down so the barrels could be forged into makeshift cannons. Given that his headquarter station had the best and the brightest minds, they were able to have the defenses that no faction would dare attack.

Now, it was no longer the case. The men didn't have the large cannons to hold back the Nazis, but the mortars would bring terror to the average infantryman. It had been twenty years since he had heard the sound of the beautiful singers come back to life and he made sure that these mortars would serve their users well.

The quartermaster had planned an in-depth defense to hold the Nazis back. Three batteries of mortars consisting of five mortars were zeroed in on their former base camp. Once the trap gets sprung, the Nazis will have to pour more men into the meatgrinder, where the forest hid them away from plain sight. This was the price they paid in attacking the Rangers of the Order.

He watched as the last dozens of peasants ran away from their temporary shelter and left the Rangers to their duties. All that remained were the Rangers - who took positions in the base camp - to make it the grave of the fascists and report back to their assigned mortar batteries. To oversee the entire battlefield that was about to occur, Kuzmich took comfort by sitting in a tall tree to see his men in position. His orders from Spartan Command was to hold out until reinforcements arrived or they died trying.

His radio sparked to life before he lowered his binoculars and checked in on the men. "Blizzard, do you have anything to report?"

The veteran heard the young man's voice respond. "Yes sir, I've got eyes on the Nazis, but the bastards have Rost and Scalp as hostages."

He was furious, those men had the galls to do this to their men. Then the quartermaster raised his binoculars and focused his attention on the Gate itself. Dozens of Nazis poured from their access to this strange land; however, he saw two familiar men on their knees with their mouths gagged in cloth and their eyes blindfolded. Behind them was a Nazi officer with a speaker in hand. If only he had Timur with him…

Then the officer brought the speaker to his mouth and spoke. "Rangers of the Order, I am Hauptsturmführer Wilhelm of the Fourth Reich and I am in charge of the troops that are here to cease this Gate. Lay down your arms and come peacefully, there is no need for violence."

A surge of anger was filled inside of him. Those men were at the mercy of the Nazis, but there was little he could do from here. His men were concealed in the forest around the base camp and revealing his position would ruin the element of surprise. He was filled with dread, knowing where this could go.

Wilhelm pulled out his pistol and immediately fired into Scalp's head. His body fell forward while blood was spilt across the grass before him. "If you do not reply in the next five seconds, I will shoot the next Ranger!" The Nazi announced before walking right behind Rost's back. Then he aimed his pistol at his fellow brother-in- arms. "Not in the mood to talk? Fuck it, time to kill some freaks!" Wilhelm's next gunshot was fired, killing the second Ranger at the mercy of the Nazis.

All he could do was lower his head and make a small prayer to God for what his injustice to their souls They deserved better than what these monsters of men did to them. Kuzmich continued to observe the enemy forces as their numbers started to ransack and comb through anything that was left behind. Yet, his eyes saw several men storm into a tent, only for an explosion to be set off in the next several seconds

One of the traps have been sprung. Several moments later, another explosion kicked the dirt up into the air with several casualties already inflicted on the Nazis. The quartermaster called out for his men on the radio,. "Mortars, fire on pre-designated positions. Ladna Rangers, the Nazis killed out guys. We'll make sure they all pay for it in blood." Then he felt a drop of water land on his hand. He looked up at the sky to see dark clouds above the new battlefield. It was going to rain.

Off in the distance, his ears heard the whistles of high explosive shells launching out of their tubes before they screamed back to earth. Through his binoculars, the Nazis casualties appeared to have increased the longer they tried to search through the tents and the makeshift huts of the peasants - who were probably gone by now. Several more explosions occurred as he watched the soldiers spread out and run for whatever cover that wasn't booby-trapped for them.

More poured through the Gate, covering more ground than the initial wave. Although the Nazis were quite tough, they didn't have the numbers of the Red Line. Hopefully, he could inflict enough losses for their commanders to pull back into the tunnels. Then he heard his radio spark to life with one of his fellow Rangers speaking up. "They're in range. Permission to fire?"

Kuzmich observed the farthest the Nazis were able to make from the Gate, but he saw one of the squads no closer than fifty meters in front of him. "Granted, open fire." Without hesitation, he heard gunfire open up from a nearby shrubbery as the tracers cut through the group of five soldiers into mincemeat. "All squad leaders, open fire on the Nazis. They shall not pass." Soon, the surrounded Nazi soldiers were lit up in a crossfire.

Author's Note: Looks like I had some time to get a chapter done before dealing with an exam. Consider this a treat from me.

muratira: Yeah, I really dislike some of the nonsense in canon.

Sigma-del-Prisium: Given that the Russians are part of the United Nations Security Council, all they have to do is talk with the Americans and give a middle finger to China.

last admiral: As much as it sounds interesting, your idea won't be in this crossover.

Raraiki: Shrugs Shoulders

Psihopatul: Thanks for the review.

headreviewer mk2: Yep.

WarGlory: Eh, not something to celebrate.

Assistant Elite General Matteo: More like they were caught off-guard.

Junior VB: While I do appreciate the extra reviews you have given me, I would appreciate it more if you put a little more effort.